


medan giftet verkar

by ekavi



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Domestic Fluff, Establishing Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, they have sex but nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 07:19:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10079246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ekavi/pseuds/ekavi
Summary: I will take the holy communion with salt water and wine, drop by drop distilled off your body.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ichigo and Rukia from 'mild mustard' getting together. Mostly smut and fluff. Can stand on its own though. 
> 
> Once again, if you read Bleach, your standards are low enough to read this.

Last night was one of those days that Rukia liked to spend with the boys at their house. They ate, talked about nothing and everything. It wasn’t unusual for Rukia to stay overnight at their house, she already had her own spot on the couch and claimed her own blanket as hers to sleep with.

The morning light woke her up, it landed on her face through the windows and warmed her up uncomfortably so. Blinded and slightly irritated by the sunlight, she found herself preparing breakfast in the kitchen. She decided to go for orange juice and fried eggs with bacon and cheese.

It was Wednesday and that meant she and Ishida didn’t have classes and neither did Ichigo. That’s why they liked to spend their Tuesday nights together so much. Ishida though had work in the morning. On the other hand, Rukia’s shift at the coffee shop was usually the evening one so she didn’t have to worry about sleeping in. After a while, Ishida woke up as well to get ready. They had breakfast together and he bid her goodbye as he walked out the door to go to work.

Ichigo woke up from all the fuss they were making in the kitchen. By the time he decided to get out of bed though, Ishida had already left. He found his way towards the kitchen only to find Rukia sitting on the kitchen counter with a glass of orange in hand. She was wearing a baggy shirt -that probably belonged to Ishida- and her shorts from last night. She always looked pretty in the mornings. And in the afternoons. And especially at nights.

But the morning look always holds a certain vulnerability to it, more natural and familiar than anything else, he thinks.

Her glass is on her lips when she lifts up a second glass with orange juice and motions it to him.

He grows closer and takes the glass off her hand, has a sip and then bends towards her and kisses her lightly on the lips

"Good morning", he smiled against her lips.

"Good morning", she smiled back.

She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him deeper and somehow, his smile got wider.

This, he thinks, this doesn't feel weird. Or awkward. Or blushing material. This feel like greeting good morning your long time girlfriend. It feels like home.

His relationship with Rukia surprisingly enough never brought up any questions in him. Their relationship was always in a sort of way, progressing. Ever since they met. For them to be lovers was just a natural follow up that didn't raise any confusion.

They never talk about it. They never 'confess' their feelings to each other. He never admits to her that he thinks he has been in love with her since he met her. He, anyway, is more than aware that she already knows. She probably always knew.

So as he smiles into her kiss and settles between her legs at the kitchen counter, he never speaks a word. She doesn't either.

His hand wanders on her body, curious then greedy. Her own hand rested on the side of his neck while the other traced his stomach over his shirt.

He kisses her lightly on the neck and she clings closer to him, pressing her chest against him. He lifts her up and makes his way into the bedroom where he settles leaning against the bedhead, she is still wrapped all around him and somewhat sitting on his lap, her legs rounding his waist.

They are still learning each other, exploring and mapping the curves, the paths, the sounds. They are always progressing, even now, they do.

Doing this with Rukia feels like an act of forgiveness midst a murder. The biggest sinners are ascended to heavens, the biggest liars repent. At late hours of lazy days, together, really together on the bed after drunken escapades, this is a holy act. So holy that he is afraid to make a sound, fearing he will taint it with the sound of his voice.

In the way she looks at him through half-lidded eyes, her lips slightly parted and the only thing that he can register is her breathing, he knows that nothing else exists in that moment for her apart from him. He knows she doesn't think anything, she is focused solely on feeling. She shuts everything else out and even if she wanted, she is drunk on this feeling, drunk on how good he feels, how ethereal he looks when he is flustered and how she steps foot on heaven when she hears him vocalising his pleasure, when he can't control his mouth and his movements anymore.

His skin feels cold resting against the wood of the bed, Rukia's legs encircling him, her hands are trembling, trembling to find something to hold on so she does not dissolve away.

There is always a desperation in this, a feeling that does not hold past or future, it just exists in one passing moment. One passing moment in the garden of Gethsemane, something akin to a miracle takes place.

His arms bring her even closer, trapped in his chest, his hands hold her back tightly, ever so tightly.

Her body sings and he follows her chanting. She is a priestess, her every movement holds something descended from ancient magic, religious dances and the beauty of a blooming flower after a harsh winter burned it to the ground.

She is a sorceress, celestial and terrifying.

Yet here she is, she looks down at him and brushes away some hair from his forehead and her hand settles gently on his cheek. She is still somewhere lost, he knows because so is he. But he is returning slowly, her heart beat is calming, it's no longer aggressive. It follows her breathing, soft and almost audible now.

He slides down so that his back finds the mattress. She is still laid upon him, the whole experience was draining. Her mind is heavy with sleep when Ichigo tenderly caresses her hair and places soft kisses on her face. Soon, she is asleep.

* * *

 When Rukia wakes up, maybe one or two hours later, she finds that Ichigo is gone. She gets up and searches him but apparently he has left the house. Not one to be bothered by his absence, she enters the bathroom to take a quick shower to freshen herself up.

By the time she is finished and enters again Ichigo’s bedroom, he has returned. She finds him laying on the bed in just his underwear, watching TV and around him some hard paper food containers.

“Oh. There you are.”, Rukia says somewhat surprised to see him.

“Missed me?”

“Don’t you know it’s rude to leave right after sex? What happened to your manners, Mr. Kurosaki?”

“Aw, come here.”, he opens his arms as in to signal her to join him. She doesn’t waste any time and settles to his side, clad in just a towel. “I was hoping you wouldn’t wake up while I was gone. You see, we have this little rodent in our house that consumes everything edible and I was hungry.”

He kisses her temple and while she gives him a light slap on the chest, she can’t really be angry that he named her ‘little rodent’. She eyes the various food containers. “What did you bring?”

He points to each box respectively, “Croissants. Muffins. Donuts.” He hands her his cup of warm coffee and continues, “Coffee.” She takes a sip and gives it back to him.

They stay like that for a while, this early in the day the TV programme only features telemarketing, some slippers that have lights in front of them, some other anatomical shoes and half price gym equipment. At this moment, talking about this magic tea that helps you lose weight in 8 weeks, seems to them so important, so interesting.

“What time do you get off work today?”, he interrupts a long, comfortable silence.

“10 o’clock.”

“Want me to pick you up and go grab a bite to eat?”

“And then drinks on you?”, she smiles slyly at him.

“And then drinks on me.”, he lowers himself to kiss her and brings her up so that she is straddling him. She wraps her arms around his neck and slowly moves her hips, her mouth remains on his while he reaches up and removes the towel that was draping her. Every inch of her skin is pressed against his bare form and yet he wants her closer. He always wants her closer.

He shifts their positions so she lays with her back to the bed and his mouth travells along her body.

Soon, her voice guides and urges his hands to search and find, to caress and to touch until she can no longer make a sound, until her nails draw blood on his back, until she throws her head against the pillow and reach for it.

After a while, Rukia does the same for him, uses both her hands and mouth to pleasure him and Ichigo couldn’t be more grateful for her hands working with grace on him or her warm mouth making him moan out loud and encourage her on.

_“Oh, fuck Rukia”_ , she hears him say, repeating her name over and over again and it’s enough for her to work faster and harder and fill her with pride that she made his voice hit _that_ decibel.

Afterwards, he immediately pulls her up and, to her surprise, kisses her so tenderly and so softly, as in a way to indicate his thankfulness and his appreciation. His tongue finds hers and he is so careful and slow that she wants to pleasure him all over again. And again. And again.

When they decide to get out of bed and have a bath, it’s already time for lunch.

There’s cold pizza from yesterday in the refrigerator, neither of them complains about it as they consume the left over slices in the kitchen together talking about those anatomical shoes and life-changing slippers.

They lay in the living room, doing nothing at all, Ichigo watches the news on TV and Rukia is on her laptop. He sits on the floor, his back resting against the sofa and she lays on the sofa, her legs sprawled on the coffee table -a secret that they intend to keep from Ishida.-

“Hey, Ichigo,” Rukia calls suddenly. He looks up at her, “What?”

“You suck”, she says and laughs at her silly joke. 

Ichigo though, stands up and hovers over her with a predatory smile on his face, “I do. Quite literally, dear. Wanna see?”

Rukia laughs as he attacks her and showers her with kisses, encourages him when he gets more aggressive and they hide from the world for some hours, yet again.

 

  
Until a screaming Ishida finds them, that is.


End file.
